


Eta Aquarid

by ButterflyGhost



Category: due South
Genre: Gen, May The Fourth Be With You, happy ever after
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-23 20:19:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18709276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButterflyGhost/pseuds/ButterflyGhost
Summary: Written for tonight's meteor showers. Ray and Stella are alive and well in Florida, and this is a moment from their happy ever after; to be precise, the night of fourth of May, 2019.(unbetad, written at speed.)





	Eta Aquarid

"What are we looking at?" Stella comes up behind me and lays a light hand on my shoulder. I turn from the ocean and smile. She is a pale blur, smudged into water colour softness in the absence of the moon.

 

"I don't know what you're looking at," I tell her, lifting a hand to touch her cheek, "but I have the best view."

 

"Oh?" She pretends to be offended but I feel her smile curving against my palm and the warmth in her voice. "You're sitting out here in the dark; what are you trying to tell me? I look better when you can't see me?"

 

I laugh. "Nah. I'm telling you that you're beautiful in any light."

 

She snorts. That's one of the things I love about her, she's so unladylike. "Even pushing sixty?"

 

I slide over on the swing bench and make room for her to scooch in next to me. She's warm all the way down my left hand side, and I wrap my arm around her. She rests her chin on my shoulder. I kiss the crown of her head. She smells of tropical fruit and coconut. I always think her shampoo smells like a cocktail, but apparently women, even sensible women, like that kind of thing. I inhale and chuckle, then some thin strands get caught on my tongue.

 

"What are you laughing at?" she asks as I withdraw my head for a moment and scrape my tongue with my teeth. "Good Lord, Ray, what are you doing?"

 

"God knows," I grimace. Her shampoo might smell edible, but it doesn't taste it. "I hope you're paraben free."

 

"Oh," she nods wisely. "You were sampling my hair again." She cups my own bald head with her two hands and strokes it, her fingers soft against the stubble where I shave it neat. The friction sends shivers all the way to my toes and I squeeze her tighter. "Maybe I should follow your example." She is kneading the nape of my neck with her thumbs. "Would you like me as an egghead?"

 

"You are an egghead." I kiss her again, this time on the temple, "but I like your fruity hair." I move my head back and smile at her. "Stella by Starlight," I murmur. "Always beautiful."

 

Her face goes soft and sad for a moment. I recognise the expression: it's a 'Kowalski used to say that' face. I'm not jealous though. It's not like I have a right to it anyway. I was out here thinking of Benny when she came up behind me. I was thinking about the way we watched the showers those nights up north, a thousand years ago. Not in a regretful way, not even melancholy. More... Wistful, I suppose. Benny's fine. He'll be up there watching tonight's meteor shower with Kowalski. Wonder if he's wondering about me watching it. Not something I'll ask him, even though we do talk most days. He's still my best friend, whatever else we nearly were.

 

"Eta Aquarid,'' she says and surprises me. "That's what we're watching, right? The spring showers?"

 

"Right," I say, and push with my feet to set our swing seat in motion. Out across the ocean the stars are bright, no miasmic light pollution to spoil the show. "I said you were an egghead."

 

She smirks. "You have a type," she says, without rancour. Oh, so I recognised her Kowalski moment and she saw my Benny pause. That's okay. Neither one of us minds. We both know we're not the kind to stop loving people, and we trust each other. She loves Kowalski, I love Benny; they love us. That's good.

 

Because the thing is, I love her. I love her and she knows it. She loves me and I know it. Right down to the core of us, there's love. I love the slender bones in the arches of her feet, I love the puzzle lines between her eyebrows, I love the way she fidgets for an hour before she falls asleep. I love that she loves Kowalski. I guess I'd love her less if she could turn love off, but she's built like me. She can't take love back once it's been given, anymore than I can, and she's given herself to me.  

 

"Oh," she cries out, and points. Her face is radiant with pleasure as she sees the first star fall.

 

I don't have words for this. She never believes me when I tell her that she is beautiful.

 

"Oh, Ray. You missed it."

 

"No." I draw her close, as if I could wrap her warm inside me, and we settle in to watch the light show. My Stella. My beautiful, beautiful girl. "I didn't miss anything at all."

  


**Author's Note:**

> Written for tonight's meteor showers. Ray and Stella are alive and well in Florida, and this is a moment from their happy ever after; to be precise, the night of fourth of May, 2019.
> 
> (unbetad, written at speed.)


End file.
